


Shallow Seas

by James_D_Auld



Category: Prehistoric Park
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:42:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23225758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/James_D_Auld/pseuds/James_D_Auld
Summary: Nigel goes searching for an extinct marine reptile in Jurassic England, and gets more than he bargained for...
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2
Collections: Worldbuilding Exchange 2020





	Shallow Seas

**Author's Note:**

  * For [greerwatson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/greerwatson/gifts).



The sky brightens to the east, a rosy hue spreading across the barely blue sky. The camp on the hillock wakes in fits and starts, camera crew readying their equipment while Nigel and the other team members make a light breakfast. One of the cameramen takes up position opposite the cooking fire, catching Nigel silhouetted against the horizon. 

As the simple meal nears readiness, Nigel beckons the camera closer.

“Here we are, day two of our expedition. Today, I’m hoping we catch a glimpse of a Muraenosaurus. They’re a kind of plesiosaur, closely related to Cryptoclidus,” He pops a still too hot piece of sausage in his mouth, taking in a sharp breath at the burning on his tongue. He chews, smiling ruefully. “I’m a bit impatient, but with no sightings of any of the large marine reptiles yesterday-” He swallows, “I worry that the animals we’re looking for might be rarer than I’d anticipated.”

The rest of the crew dig in as well, with the camera team taking turns eating so they always have more than one device recording. Nigel and the crew begin discussing a game plan for the day’s search, but are interrupted by a low whistle. They turn to see one of the cameramen waving to them from further along the hillock, crouched low by a clump of plants. 

“Let’s go see what this is then,” Nigel says quietly. The group swings wide along the beach, approaching the figure beckoning to them with one hand while filming something with the other. They walk at a crouch the last few meters, careful to keep themselves hidden from whatever is just over the rise.

“Goodness, would you look at that!” His voice hushed but excited, Nigel peers over the brush to see a relatively small stegosaurid munching on a patch of ferns. It has yet to notice them, placidly grazing in the morning rays of sunlight.

“This here is a Loricatosaurus, a relative of the later Stegosaurus, but they won’t be around for another ten million years or so.” He pulls a frond down from in front of his face, giving himself and the cameras a better view. “You can absolutely tell that it’s a stegosaurid, but there is this sort of alienness to it. You see there,” Nigel points to the fore of the animal, “For maybe the front half or two thirds of the animal, it has the familiar plates of a Stegosaurus, though much smaller. But there,” He motions to the back end of the animal, “You can see the plates turn into spikes, very similar to the Thagomizer of a Stegosaur, but filling in the entire length of the tail.”

Nigel pulls another frond down out of the way and the animal visibly starts, making a bellowing sound and pivoting on its hind legs to swing its body away from the intruders. Its tail swings forward in the same motion, rotating slightly to bring the upright spikes to bear. The tip swishes dangerously through the brush, missing Nigel by less than a meter. He, and most of the group, jump back away from the sudden movement, more than one person taking a tumble down the gentle slope.

Scrambling back, Nigel quickly turns to check on the fallen crewmembers. “You alright? Everyone okay?” He looks back to the dinosaur, still swinging its tail with immense power and speed through the space between them. “Wow, I was not expecting that!” He laughs. 

He helps one of the crew off the ground, then turns back to watch as the Loricatosaurus lumbers away at a fair clip, swinging its head to the side to keep an eye on them as it does.

“I would have liked to try to bring it back with us, but Bob would have my head if he had to construct yet another additional enclosure.” Nigel shakes his head, his hands on his hips as he watches the dinosaur shrink into the distance. “Well, that’s a bit of excitement to start the day, but we should be getting back to our main task. Finding the Muraenosaurus.”

The group walks back to the campsite, more than one rubbing their tender backsides. 

Now back at camp, they finish their planning session and begin loading up the boat with the supplies they’ll need for the day’s activities. Chief among them is the pair of aerial drones they’ve brought with them from the future. These will be able to fly hundreds of feet into the air, giving the team a better chance of spotting animals beneath the waves. The team also brings large pieces of bait to drag behind the boat in the hopes of luring their intended target close enough to direct through the time portal.

Once the boat is fully loaded, the team clambers aboard and motors off away from the beach. They cruise for some time, watching a group of Rhamphorhynchus flying over the water, periodically diving and returning to the surface with a small fish clutched between their tiny jaws. After perhaps a half hour of travel, Nigel calls a stop and the crew begin prepping the drones. They also launch a submersible ROV, taking a look around the immediate area. Nigel and one of the crewmembers crowd around the small screen the ROV is transmitting video to, with an ever-present cameraman hovering behind them.

Nigel holds a hand up to shade the screen from the morning sun. “Look over there. Off to the right.” The crewmember manipulates a joystick, with the video reacting in kind. 

“There, right there,” Nigel points at the screen. A small cloud of round shapes floats in a loose throng. “Those are ammonites. In the Cretaceous some of them will get absolutely gargantuan, reaching six feet in diameter. But for now they’re not much bigger than my fist.” He and the crewmember both cry out in surprise as a dark shape flits across the screen and straight into the school of ammonites.

“Woah, what was that?” Nigel exclaims, “It went right into them and continued on. Did you catch a proper glimpse of it?” 

The crewmember shakes his head. “It was too quick. It didn’t look like it had much of a neck though.”

“Yeah, I don’t think it was a Muraenosaurus.” Nigel’s voice is distracted as he searches the screen for the unknown beast. He points off to the left side of the screen. “I’m pretty sure it went that way, see if you can find it again.” 

The camera pans across to the left, away from the ammonites. They can see nothing but open water and the sandy bottom of the shallow sea. Just as they’re about to give up, the thing flashes back across the screen, much closer now, and then the view wrenches to the side and down, pointing directly at the seafloor. 

“It’s got a hold of it!” Nigel cries, dashing to the side of the boat. The ROV pilot pulls at the controls to no avail, and as Nigel peers over the gunwale the screen goes black. Grabbing the ROV’s cable, he hauls it in, spooling it in a messy pile on the deck. He hits resistance, and with a shout is nearly pulled over the side. One of the cameramen grabs him by the back of the shirt and pulls hard, and the rest of the crew rush over to help. With a mighty heave, they haul on the cable, and then with a jolt the line goes slack. The whole team falls backward, landing in a pile on the boat’s deck. Nigel leaps back up and resumes reeling in the ROV, but when he gets to the end of the line only a twisted chunk of metal and plastic remains, with some stray wires jutting out. 

He shakes his head as the cameras gather in for a close shot. “Now what could have done that? That thing wasn’t nearly big enough to be a Liopleurodon, but it’s bitten straight through this metal frame. That’s at least…” He tries to gauge the thickness of the metal with his fingers, “Two, maybe three mil thick.”

Walking back to the side of the boat, he peers over the side again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the thing. Wistfully, he holds the end of the cable back up in front of his face. “What on earth were you?”

Following the loss of the submersible, the team busy themselves with getting the drones airborne. Nigel sits off to the side, turning the cable end over in his hands, looking for some clue as to what the culprit might be. One of the crewmembers calls over to him, and he looks up. 

“They’re ready, Nigel!” The crewmember waves him over, holding an R/C remote control much like the one the ROV had been directed by. Another member holds a second remote control, and in quick succession they power on the drones. The hum of the quad propellers on the drones increases in pitch until it becomes a duet of painful whines, bringing the two machines up off the deck and into the air. The same screen is used to view the cameras’ perspectives, split down the middle. Nigel kneels in front of the screen while the pilots stand by either of his shoulders. The boat grows small in the cameras’ view, and the sea becomes a blueish-green canvas dotted with large black masses. 

Nigel points to the dark patches, “Those must be rock formations, jutting out of the sand.” He stares intently at the twin images, searching for movement. The drones fly in opposite directions, their viewpoints diverging from two nearly identical images to very different perspectives. 

“There!” Nigel cries out, sitting up violently, bringing his face closer to the screen. He points fervently at the left image. “There! Can you see it? That movement in the bottom left!” 

The left hand drone pilot leans in closer, making the drone descend and centering the spot that Nigel was pointing to on the screen. Nigel’s finger hovers over one of the dark patches, and for a few seconds nothing happens. Then, a small dark shape flits out from the patch and moves erratically across the screen. It travels in a zigzag, reaching another patch of rock and disappears once again. 

Nigel turns slightly toward the pilot, keeping one eye on the screen. “Can you bring it in closer?” He turns fully back to the screen and watches as the drone gets closer to the water. As the image grows larger, movement becomes discernible against the black backdrop. The creature’s darkly colored back camouflages it wonderfully against the rock. But, the closer the camera gets, the better the outline of the animal can be seen. It has four flippered limbs, with a stout tail and neck. “It must be some kind of pliosaur, they were quite common at this time,” Nigel remarks, his eyes glued to the left screen. The right hand pilot brings his drone over to get a second view of the scene, but at a far greater height. The boat is visible, not far off from the rocks that the pliosaur is currently hiding in, as well as the lower drone. 

Nigel frowns, bringing a hand up to cup his chin. “I wonder what’s got it acting this way.” He leans back slightly, his eyes darting about with the frenzied movements of the creature. “It’s almost like it’s being chased by something.”

He turns his head to the right, taking in the broader picture of the other drone’s view. His gaze traverses the screen, methodically taking in the scene. Then he tenses, moving closer and watching a patch of rocks some ways off from the view of the left drone. He stares, holding his breath, then shouts, “Look! There!”

His hand comes up and points at the near edge of the dark patch, and as the rest of the crew crowds around, the black of the rocks seems to protrude, extending out in a narrow triangle, which then narrows and broadens dramatically into two slowly beating flippers. An enormous shape emerges over the pale color of the ocean floor, much like the small pliosaur they had been so enraptured by, but many times bigger. It moves toward the boat at a deceptive pace, seeming quite slow compared to the smaller creature, but covering large swathes of ground with each rhythmic beat of its limbs. 

“It’s a Liopleurodon, it must be! No other sea animal grew that large at this time.” The drone descends, bringing the giant predator into sharper focus. Its head is enormous, likely longer than any of the team is tall, and full of massive conical teeth. These would be perfectly suited for grabbing large animals in a powerful bite from which it would be impossible to escape. Nigel glances back at the left screen just in time to catch the other pliosaur entering another rocky bed. “Looks like that giant has found itself a meal.” 

The smaller animal draws closer and closer to the boat, moving from rock to rock, sprinting across the open spaces. The Liopleurodon follows it doggedly, closing the gap between them. Just as it seems the pliosaur would pass under the boat, the Liopleurodon is nearly upon it, and the team braces themselves to watch the predator successfully catch its prey.

Instead, there’s a crash of water into the boat, accompanied by a loud thud as the pliosaur launches itself over the gunwale and onto the deck. The team barely has time to turn and take in the sight of the intruder when the boat is tossed to the side, two team members going overboard and into the water. The Liopleurodon raises its head vertically out of the water, one eye peering over the side of the boat at the now terrified crew, and spots its prey. It brings its head down on the edge of the boat, tipping it dangerously to one side and sliding the crew down toward the beasts' gaping maw. Nigel’s slide brings him down beside the Liopleurodon and he begins kicking at the eye nearest to him. 

The giant recoils, slipping noisily back into the water. Now free from the immense weight, the boat rocks back the other way, slowly evening out. Cries can be heard from the crewmembers who went overboard just moments before. Scrambling to their feet, the rest of the team work quickly to haul the two back into the boat. One of the cameramen hastily sets his equipment down and fires up the engine. Opening up the throttle, the boat begins to move forward, only to be thrown by another impact. The boat steadies and picks up speed, carrying them away from the enraged sea beast. 

They travel for several minutes before slowing and turning back toward land. Nigel crouches next to the soaked crewmembers, talking softly to them. They both shiver violently, though the water and surrounding air is quite warm. Nigel stands up and walks over to another team member. “They’re in shock, no doubt about it. We’re going to have to cut this expedition short, and have them looked over when we get back. I’m worried about how this’ll affect them.”

The team member nods and begins spreading the word that they’ll be returning to the present once they reach shore. Nigel returns to the two, helping dry them off and giving them small sips of water. When he’s sure he’s done all he could until they arrive back at the park he sits with his back against a gunwale alongside the two of them. He leans his head back and closes his eyes, feeling the sharp drop after the adrenaline rush of the previous encounter. Opening his eyes, he lets out a long breath, taking a slow look around the boat. 

The rest of the crew are similarly recovering from the life threatening ordeal. The cameraman who had likely saved their lives with his quick thinking sits beside the engine, directing them back to shore. Nigel is disappointed that the expedition has been a failure, but the wellbeing of his crew is more important than bringing an animal back to the park. They can always come back to this time, but they can’t replace one of their people.

A small movement towards the back corner of the boat catches Nigel’s eye. A large towel lays draped over something, and periodically it shifts this way or that. As Nigel studies it more closely from his seated position he can just make out a rising and falling motion, as if the thing beneath the fabric was breathing.

“Goodness me! How could we possibly forget about our little stowaway!” Nigel heaves himself up to his feet and strides over to the hidden creature. Crouching down, he cautiously lifts the edge of the towel up to stare at the face of the pliosaur currently hunkered down in the corner. “Would you look at that? Compared to the Liopleurodon, he looked so small. But now I can see he’s a sizable beast.” He lifts the rest of the towel off, causing the pliosaur to begin flapping its fins in a vain attempt to escape. 

“Now just hold on there,” Nigel says as he presses the towel back over the animal’s head. The flapping slows and then stops, replaced by infrequent twitches and stretches. “He looks to be about one and a quarter, maybe one and a half meters long. From what I was able to see of his dentition, I’d say what we’ve got is a young Peloneustes. They were one of the smallest pliosaurs from this era, and he should grow to around three meters, and you can see here,” He lifts the front of the towel away from the creature’s snout, revealing broad conical teeth, “These teeth are specially designed for crushing hard shells, like ammonites and benthic forms of life. I’d say with certainty that this is the culprit behind the destruction of our remote submersible.” He shakes his head in awe. “I certainly wouldn’t want to get my hand caught in that mouth.” 

The boat finally arrives at shore and the crew unloads what equipment they can salvage and set up the time portal stakes. The two crewmembers who went overboard are helped shakily to their feet and through the portal first. Nigel and two of the other crew heft the Peloneustes out of the boat and carry it thrashing through the portal as well. On the other side Suzanne is giving a preliminary checkup to the shaken pair. Bob comes jogging over, along with two of his assistants, concern apparent on all three of their faces. 

“Just what in the blazes happened while you were away?” Bob asks, incredulous. “Those two look worse off than the time you came running through the portal with a rhinoceros hot on your heels!”

Nigel turns toward Bob. “There were some unexpected complications involving a very large sea monster.” Bob notices the bundle that Nigel is carrying. Walking over, he lifts the towel to catch a glimpse of the Peloneustes. He looks at Nigel with disbelief. “I thought you said you were going after one of those long necked buggers. I told you, you can’t keep bringing things back that you haven’t told me about.” He shakes his finger at Nigel, his face austere. “That’s it, that’s the only one you get this trip. No going back now and trying to bring back any extras.”

Nigel ducks his head with a contrite grin, chastised. “I wasn’t planning on it. Do you think we could get this guy over to the new reservoir? He’s not doing so well out of water.” The wheezing breaths of the Peloneustes could be heard from under the towel. “Even though it’s not all that big, it doesn’t seem to be designed to breath without the water to buoy it.” 

Bob motions them over to a nearby jeep, and together they load the creature into the back and prepare to drive off to its new home. Nigel runs over to Suzanne wearing a worried expression. “How are they?”

Suzanne glances over at him before turning her attention back to the man in front of her. “They’re certainly shaken up something awful, but I can’t find any physical injuries. I’ll get a hold of a friend of mine who works as a counselor and have her come check them out.”

Nigel’s frown deepens. 

Suzanne touches his shoulder in reassurance. “Don’t worry too much Nigel, I’m sure they’ll be fine.” He nods and exchanges a few words with the men, who echo Suzanne’s words, though their voices are perhaps a touch more subdued. Nigel tells them he’ll be back to check up on them just as soon as the newest addition to the park is situated, then jogs back over to the jeep. 

Jumping on the back next to the bundled Peloneustes, Nigel tells Bob to get going and the jeep rumbles off toward the water. When they arrive, everyone clambers down from the vehicle and grabs hold of the animal, save for the one cameraman tagging along to document the operation. The sun is low in the mid-evening sky, reflecting off the glasslike surface of the reservoir. The group’s long shadows ripple across the uneven terrain as they move.

With both hands supporting the animal’s head, Nigel turns to the camera. “I just realized we haven’t shown you the reservoir. We’ve been keeping it a secret, what with all the problems we knew we’d have getting it built.” He looks down at the ground ahead of him, picking his path carefully. “The enclosure is loosely square, and more than a kilometer in length per side. We’ve pumped in salt water from the nearby ocean through a pipe, seeing as the animals we were wanting to house in it were ocean-dwelling. They need the salt.

“Initially, the idea had been to construct a man-made lagoon, fully connected to the ocean. But, we, or should I say Bob, decided the possibility of any animals escaping into the ocean and being lost forever was unacceptable. The current design is more secure, if less convenient in terms of filling with water and making water changes and all that. All in all, it’s easily the greatest feat of engineering currently on display at the park.”

The group completes the short trek down to the water, walking in until the men at the front are up to their waists. The fabric is loosened, and the Peloneustes is dipped gently into the water. It holds still for a few seconds, then pumps its muscular fins and is gone. 

Nigel looks out after it, spotting its head break the surface of the water to take a breath before disappearing again. There are few things in the world that bring him more joy than working with these amazing animals, and he can’t wait for the challenges that still lie ahead.


End file.
